Agnus Dei

For not updating last week, this is a chapter that equals two. Enjoy.



... ...





Two days later and James sat at the family dining table, preparing to leave for practice. It was still dark out, being around six A.M.; the shabby rental was quiet. Hearing friendly steps approaching, James greeted his mother with a gentle embrace. She was also leaving for work, dressed in thick garnets and crass working boots. Femininity had been robbed from her with the marriage of Edmon



"Mum... You look really pale." James commented, stroking the woman\'s pallid face. She looked skinnier than normal, sadder, even a bit shorter.



"I\'m fine, hun." Margret, short for Margaretha, answered tersely, wanting her words to convey her wish, though even the words betrayed her.



"Have you been eating? I know you\'re short on money, but-"



"It\'s fine. You shouldn\'t have to worry about me. You\'re the son." She placed her chilly hand on his fevered cheek.



Digging through his pocket, James deposited the last of his money in her hand, forcing her to accept it. "Buy something to eat. You can hardly take care of me when you\'re dying."



Disgraced by taking money from her son, Margret began the journey to the factory, in the pitch of night.





"Hey, Elle..." James mumbled walking into the store. He was tired, maybe he should have taken another day off, but that wasn\'t the reason for his sluggishness. Balaur had decided to grace them with his presence again. He sat at the bar stool from before, sipping from a cup James supposed was the infamous English Tea.



With an awkward smile, Elle greeted him, obviously discouraged from Balaur\'s avocation. The man definitely had arrogance to demand service when the bakery wasn\'t even open yet. But she would never say \'no\' to a customer.



James, undaunted by Balaur, sat down at his usual seat- which so happened to be right beside the man.



"Where\'ve you been the past two days? I thought you already left to Vermont." Elle asked before setting bread in front of her friend. It was steaming and smelled so delectable compared to the normal day-old bread. He didn\'t ask questions though. This was the least she thought she could do.



"Nah. I haven\'t got any money. I just gave the last of it to Mum. She hasn\'t been eating well lately..." James looked to the table beneath him... praying for his mother to be healthy.



"She\'s fine. I\'m sure. But if that old man died..." Elle casually mumbled off. She knew he was bad news, without knowing the "punishment" he performed. Raoul told her that James got beat, a normal occurrence in their town, but the beatings would last days. In a sense, that was true.



"Mm... Actually, I wanted to thank you for mentioning Vermont." James cheered up a bit, realizing that escape was so close, "It\'s the perfect excuse to get away from him."



"So you plan to go. No matter what..." Balaur inquired in a small tone.



"That\'s right, I-"



James stopped his rant that would put Balaur in his place. As he stared into Balaur\'s eyes, James noticed the imploring gaze resigned from insolence. The misery shown in the bright... almost orange eyes. It was like watching the sun set... for the last time.



"You never told me why you don\'t want me to go." James quietly pointed. Balaur\'s grief did not disappear but only intensified.



"You remind me of someone. A very precious person who believed in experimental medicine." The man began, wallowing in his memories like a thick swamp. "He died there. These so called \'experiments\' were plain torture. I doubt they have changed."



"Sorry, but I\'m not going to die there. He probably just drew the short end of the stick." James blatantly thought out loud. However he missed the heat kindling in Balaur\'s eyes, defiantly showing his true charred colors.



"No. The one he picked would not give in."





Morning was just peaking, dashing sprinkles of color on the suburbs of New York when James arrived at the practice hall. Though before he entered, a hand intercepted his way and dragged him to the side. The contact frightened him, nearly suffering from another attack, but the urge subsided when he realized Raoul stood in front of him.



"You can\'t be serious? Again? He should understand that you\'re sick!" Raoul yelled angrily. James knew the anger wasn\'t directed toward him, but felt he had something to do with it. "I hope you get him sick!"



"If only it was that simple. I\'m alright now; I was unconscious for most of it." The teen laughed. It was more like a laugh being strangled.



"Unconscious? Did he hit you!" Raoul screamed again, "I swear to the Gods-"



"No... I was walking home and Balaur followed me, trying to convince me to forget Vermont. I started a coughing fit... and I guess I passed out."



"The new conductor?” Ignoring this strange fact, Raoul continued, “So the \'punishment\' was because you were passed out?"



"Nah, I was late coming home." His answer was emotionless, not bothering to be angered or scared Though it did concern him that he didn\'t even remember walking home. Balaur was his last memory.. "Right now my biggest concern is getting money to go to Vermont. The sooner I can get away from him, the better."



"I wish I could help... The wedding is coming up soon, our money is pretty tight."



"I\'d do anything by now. This is unbearable. If I wasn\'t so sore I might even consider prostitution." James laughed, actual emotion hinted in the outburst. Startled, Raoul joined the merriment, beginning to turn to the double doors.



"If I wasn\'t taken, I would definitely be your first client." Giggling, Raoul stepped partway inside, turning back with a questioned look. "You coming?"



James pointed at the bread in his hand, in the process of being choked down. The one rule that applied at all times, no food allowed inside. But he always hid it somewhere to save later- yet, when it was warm and so inviting, James couldn\'t resist the temptation to finish it off.



When the last bite plopped into his mouth so very willingly, James noticed the previous rays of sun were no where to be seen. Looking up, he immediately saw the darkened, sinister clouds of a storm. Groaning, the teen chewed his food bitterly, as if the weather was affecting the taste. However that theory disappeared as Balaur walked into sight.



Not wishing another confrontation, one which would end in another coughing attack, James turned, walking to the doors. He must not have gaged the conductor\'s distance properly, for the man appeared in front of him, hand closing his means of escape.



"What did your father do to you?" That commanding tone resonated from every word, and just once James wanted to give in. Yet he didn\'t.



"Why should I tell you?" The teen snarled. Though when Balaur seemed to draped over him, cornering him against the door, his spunk died.



"If what he does is enough to make you sell your body to die, I am interested in hearing what it is." Balaur\'s eyes bore into him. This time they held a black, abysmal center. No longer the dying sun.



"I-it has nothing to do with you." James stuttered. Those dark holes were drawing him in, escape inevitable.



"A potential client wishes to know."



"Well that\'s too damn bad! It was a joke!" This man was so full of himself, James cursed him and his own predicament. Ignoring the mass of flesh hovering so near to him, the teen haughtily turned his back to the man, silently opening the door again.



Suddenly arms wrapped around him, forcing the door shut, while Balaur rested on the teens shoulder. The hands caressed his chest, fingers massaging the holes of his shirt. "I can smell blood on you. Where are you bleeding?" Finding that his torso was healthy, after double checking his nipples, Balaur\'s hands crawled lower.



"You seem to be reacting quite nicely." Curious fingers probed the outline of his arousal, then work around to his behind. The teen instantly tensed, surprised by Balaur\'s actions and the pain radiating from that area. He must have reopened the wound. Balaur gave a pleasurable sigh, "Mm... Here it is."



"G-get off me!" James plead, feeling the familiar tightening in his chest.



"Your father did this." Balaur didn\'t ask. He didn\'t need to. The truth was so obvious.



"Get the hell off me. I\'ve never asked for your pity!" James shoved the man away with a growl.



"If I recall correctly, you need money." The conductor gave a shrewd smile, preying on James\' needs.



"Yes, I do. But I don\'t need it from the likes of you." Angrily opening the door for the last time, James heard Balaur\'s voice traveling with him.



"Stay after rehearsal. Listen to my proposal."





"D-do I smell weird to you?" Raoul looked at his friend, a strange intensity emanating from him.



"No... You smell like you usually do." He replied, lifted, crooked eye brows expressing the confusing oddness of the question.



"Do I usually smell like blood?" James asked, still holding a straight, stern face. Raoul couldn\'t help but crack a smile, laughing at the notion and how it got put into his head.



"No. You definitely don\'t."



"Then... I wonder..."



"Measure sixty from the second movement. Focus on building and destroying the mood." Balaur\'s more despondent than normal voice called out. Tapping on his stand impatiently, giving three beats of tempo, the waltz began.



Practice ended with James wiping his forehead, exhausted from a vigorous routine, consisting of nothing physical. He couldn\'t understand why he was so tired, barely finding the strength to lift his violin into the case. Maybe it was stress... Or maybe his illness was more developed than he was told. Which made finding money an even greater necessity.



Giving a thought to whether he should stay for Balaur\'s speech, James snubbed the request and began his after noon leisure walk to Elle\'s bakery. He needed money, but the world would freeze over before he allowed that man to hold his body. When he left the hall, barely peaking out from broken clouds, the sun sparkled on buildings and grass, only to be swallowed by black storm clouds. Lately the weather was turning for the worse.



Thoughts of the gloomy atmosphere left his mind as he wandered inside the bakery. Only to pause and rethink the situation. Balaur sat directly in the middle of the bar seats and a few people scattered about at different tables. Finding that the risk of a scene like earlier was too probable, James began to exit the bakery.



"James!" Elle\'s girlish voice yelled. He cursed the girl for bringing attention to him. Balaur\'s eyes were already on him, peeling soul from flesh, dissecting his very core. James took his regular seat, which so happened to be next to Balaur. It would be rude to walk out now and he did not want to hurt Elle.



"Hey." James called. His friend was bustling around, serving the aforesaid customers, but smiled when she saw James sitting down.



When the last of the drinks had been delivered, Elle returned to the counter. Her eyes told of a new found hope. "I found a job for you."



"Really?" James\' nearly screamed from excitement. He would be able to leave. His father would never touch him again. "Well, what is it?"



Elle smiled, as if fearing him to be angry, "Well, there\'s someone that needs help cleaning up their house and touring around the neighborhood..."



"Alri-" James paused. Why would someone need a tour around the neighborhood? Unless they were new in the area. In that case, there was only one new person in the small, poor town. He looked at Balaur. His black eyes followed every thought in the teens mind, seeing past the frail body and timed life to his soul. James saw the confirmation in those dark orbs, "No."



"B-but, you don\'t even know how much it pays! Five dollars a week!"



Elle\'s delight did not convince James. "No."



"You need money. Are you in any position to decline?" Balaur inquired, sipping from a cup James hadn\'t realized he had. Elle excused herself with a plateful of pastries, heading toward a group of men.



"Yes I am! I\'m not gonna work for a pervert like you!"



"A pervert?" Balaur questioned, "I am trying to help you."



"Pft. I don\'t need your help."



"Your father is a disgusting creature." Balaur growled, "You need to get away from him."



"I\'ve lived with this since I was a boy, I don\'t think a few more weeks will kill me." James snarled back, preparing to leave his seat to say good bye to Elle.



"So, is that it? The reason you refuse this job is because you will miss a man holding you. Even if that man is your father." Balaur\'s voice grew louder, drawing peoples\' eyes. James ignored him. He looked for Elle, and discovering she was in the kitchen, got up and started walking away.



Balaur\'s hand caught his shoulder. The teen faced his conductor with such malice a normal man would flee. James spoke just above a whisper, "I don\'t enjoy my father raping me, if that\'s what you meant. How could I miss choking down my brother\'s cum? You disgust me."



For once, Balaur didn\'t provide any arrogant words. He only let go of the teen, allowing their discussion to travel outside, without the peering eyes.



"I-I am sorry. I did not mean to offend you." Balaur easily kept astride James, who rushed down the street, not paying any attention to where he was going until they were in an empty alley. The conductor grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. A sudden epiphany occurred. James realized he was in an alley, alone with Balaur who nearly molested him earlier. He did not like the situation.



"Stop. You don\'t even know me, why are you trying so hard to help?" James screamed. Balaur\'s nonchalance pissed him off even more.



"I already told you why. You remind me of someone." The man explained, emotion suddenly shining through his black eyes, "He was in the same predicament. He was a prostitute, I tried to help him... He got sick and died from the doctor\'s who were paid to save him.



"I do not wish for you to end up the same way."



"Was he your lover?" James asked, squirming from the man\'s powerful hold on him.



"No." Balaur looked down, blinking away dried tears from a time past, "He could not accept me."



"I can see why. You\'re pushy as hell. If something doesn\'t go your way, you throw a fit."



"Is it wrong to save a life?"



"If I do go with you, I\'ll still die in less than six months. It doesn\'t matter what I do!"



"No. I will... heal you..." Balaur struggled with the words. Would he really provide something he refused his past beloved? "Give me time. You will not die, as long as you stay with me."



"That\'s impossible. I\'m going to die either way."



"Then why not take the chance? Someone is saying you will not die. Why not trust me, you have nothing else to loose."



"Fine!" James barked, "Be my savior."